


Scream in the Dark (where do you go when they're right outside?)

by everyshootingstar



Series: We are the Strays [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Aromantic Character, Firefighter Stiles, M/M, established platonic relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 10:04:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3764026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everyshootingstar/pseuds/everyshootingstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Separate me from my own two hands, I've killed so many times<br/>But I can't save the world from the creatures that don't die.</i>
</p>
<p>It was unwise to stay where they were for so long but they were tired and they needed to rest. It was going on ten days now since they'd found the attic, since they'd found an old industrial A ladder in the shed out back and Stiles used his ax to hack away at the floor to the attic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scream in the Dark (where do you go when they're right outside?)

**Author's Note:**

> ahahaha wow okay. I like to disappear and hate my writing for a while then I appear with little pieces of shit and post it in hopes that people actually like it. I also really suck at titles. The series title comes from a Sleeping with Sirens song called The Strays and the work's title comes from a Pierce the Veil song called Props&Mayhem.
> 
> So, zombie apocalypse au then. 
> 
> A few quick notes, there's the aro character tag in here because overall in the entire series Stiles is in fact aromantic. He's not romance repulsed, just very indifferent to it. Not that it really matters because it's an apocalypse and they all have better things to worry about than romance. Uh. Yeah. If you have any questions about that feel free to leave a comment. 
> 
> Also the firefigher Stiles tag, if you notice. Uh, pretty much what this is, it's the fic version of [this post](http://lifeofstiles.tumblr.com/post/116363773010/my-firefighter-training-is-speaking-to-me-now) because the idea wouldn't leave me alone ahaha. It's part of a series really. A series that I'll add to whenever I get the chance. The thing Stiles does in the beginning is real and there's a video if you're interested, just lemme know. Also [this is a halligan](http://blog.rockanddirt.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/Halligan-Bar.jpg)
> 
> So uh yeah, I think that's it? If you have any questions feel free to comment or go to my [ask box](lifeofstiles.tumblr.com/ask) and leave it there.

The drywall in front of him didn't seem too sturdy but Stiles really had no other choice, the tell-tale sound of dragging limbs and low groans sounded pretty close behind him and of course, he'd left their safe house before anyone had woken up, when the sun was still down.

It was easier to travel in the dark, easier to hide and stay out of sight, unlike the movies had always said.

So here he was, standing in front of an expanse of drywall and no ladder.

Stiles took a deep breath and closed his gloved hands tightly around the grip of the halligan bar he carried, aiming the pick forward. Once his stance was set, he swung in a quick and fluid motion, a loud _thwack_ echoing as the pointed end of the halligan made contact with a portion of the lower half of the wall.

He stopped and listened again, the dragging and groaning growing louder.

Another swing made a decent sized hole in the drywall and he exhaled before jumping, shoving the halligan firmly into the wall a ways higher.

Stiles shoved the toe of his boot into it the hole he'd made before lifting all of his weight onto his leg and holding onto the handle of the halligan embedded into the wall so he could kick a hole in the wall a little farther up with his other leg.

It was pretty dangerous to do this, to use the wall itself as a ladder, the drywall crumbling already, it could easily fall and he'd ruin the integrity of their safe house. He'd been to enough classes in the past, had it drilled into his head enough times. _Never hit the frame, always aim for just the drywall. You can tell the difference in the sound when you tap on it. Hollow and it's good to go._

The groaning and dragging was louder now and Stiles guesstimated he had only a few minutes before they were here.

Stiles tapped his fist gently against the wall and once he was satisfied, centered all of his focus on punching through the drywall. He hissed softly in pain, glad for the gloves as he put all of his weight on his left foot and grabbed onto the edge of new hole with his left hand. Kicking a hole in the wall was much easier than punching one through.

He lifted himself again and kicked another hole, higher into the drywall. One more good kick and he could grab the ledge of the attic and lift himself up to their safe area.

The groaning had reached an all time high now and Stiles knew if he looked down he'd start seeing stragglers, whether it be half-corpses clawing their way towards the wall or full bodied ones stumbling and dragging their feel along.

Stiles didn't look down he just took a deep breath and centered himself, pushing upwards and grabbing onto the exposed floor slat of the attic. His arms shook a bit as he aimed a kick just right and shoved his foot through the wall, only wobbling a bit before he pulled himself up through the hole and onto the solid floor of the attic.

He laid there for a while, face down against the dusty wood as he tried catching his breath, the sounds of groaning and scratching echoing up into the attic.

Eventually, Stiles pushed himself up and peeked back down the hole long enough to grab his halligan, one of the zombies below him tilting its head up just enough for Stiles to see into its lifeless eyes, before he ducked back into the darkness of the attic, moving over towards the very far back corner.

They'd built up a little fort, various pieces of furniture blocking off half of the attic. Sleeping bags had been found and while it probably wasn't sanitary, it was better than sleeping on the hardwood floor. Stiles had managed to dig up a battery powered lantern and extra batteries that still worked, not that it was really a problem for most of his little crew since they could see pretty well in the dark, but well, it was for him mostly.

His tendency to get up in the middle of the night and pace around the other side of the attic, keeping an eye on their entrance just in case someone came through, just in case someone found them and tried to kick them out. It helped to have light, just a little bit, turned up high enough so he could get around the barricade and over to the empty expanse of attic near the entrance.

It was unwise to stay where they were for so long but they were tired and they needed to rest. It was going on ten days now since they'd found the attic, since they'd found an old industrial A ladder in the shed out back and Stiles used his ax to hack away at the floor to the attic.

Stiles collapsed onto his sleeping bag with a quiet sigh after placing his halligan down and out of the way. He curled up on his side, pulling his blanket up tight around him as the early morning chill settled into his bones. At times like this, he definitely felt way older than eighteen. When it was early morning and no one else was awake, when he'd just come in from going out on small searches for more food than they had.

Everything had gone to shit the past few years with the outbreak and here he was, eighteen and on the run, nowhere to go. He closed his eyes tightly and gripped his blanket tighter, pressing his face into the rough, scratchy material.

“Stiles?”

Stiles lifted his head at the sound of Derek's sleepy voice, glancing around in the dark. “Hm?” he mumbled back.

There was shuffling and then a warm arm draped itself over Stiles' waist along with another scratchy blanket, “When did you get back?”

Stiles sighed softly and settled back down, leaning back into Derek, “A few minutes ago. There were three draggers following me and one regular one. They should go away soon, hopefully, but if not I'll take care of them later.” he said quietly, closing his eyes when Derek curled around his back

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Derek asked, lips barely brushing against the back of his neck, making Stiles shiver.

“What, you're not going to berate me for going out without the pack?” Stiles asked as a joke although his voice fell a little flat.

Derek sighed, sleepy and exasperated all at once and leaned more into Stiles, “I'm not Scott,” he said softly, “You can take care of yourself, you know exactly what you were doing and I'm not going to stop you.”

Stiles opened his eyes and looked out into the darkness of the attic, “I didn't find anything,” he said, “The stores around the area have been raided and we're starting to run low on water. It's going to start getting cold soon too so we'll need to start looking into finding new gear.”

“Okay,” Derek said, his hand searching out Stiles' gloved hand in the dark, “We'll figure this out, I'll help you. Next time you go on a night run let me know. I'll be there to watch your six.”

“Are you sure?” Stiles whispered, “You're still recovering, you got hit pretty hard by that asshole with the wolfsbane.”

Derek squeezed Stiles' hand tightly, “Sleep, Stiles. When it's time to wake up, I'll let you look over the wound again. Re-bandage my arm for me too. Anything that'll help you feel better about letting me join you at night.”

Stiles closed his eyes finally, nodding just barely but not saying anything else as he forced himself to relax, forced his breathing to even out as he focused on the warmth coming from Derek, focused on the feeling of Derek's thumb rubbing slowly along the back of his hand in comforting little circles.

He fell into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
